Beautiful
by Dukes126plus
Summary: The girl is a distraction. From The Fugitive.


_The Fugitive_. It's one of those occasional ones where the damsel in distress is sort of assigned to Luke. She likes him plenty. He seems to like her okay, but it was clear enough that he had no serious intentions toward her. If anything he kind of acted like her big brother.

* * *

The girl is a distraction. She happens along at the right time, or the wrong one, depending on who does the telling.

Hazzard is full of beauty. It's the kind of thing Luke never bothered to notice during his childhood; it took going away and coming back to teach him that. It maybe starts at the top, with skies that range from such a dark, unbroken blue that a man can lose track of up and down just staring at them, to the kind of gray that crowds down tight below the mountain line, promising a stunning amount of rain. Could be the beauty's in the mountains, blue in the distance, green and brown here in the foothills. Sharp angles of land, softened by the trees that manage to grow on nearly vertical surfaces, gripping around rock and clay to stand up against the odds of gravity and March winds. Maybe it's as simple as soft grass, cool water on hot days, and marking time by the passage of seasons, not the hours in a day.

Then again, it could all come down to Bo. It's a growing thought in his mind, one that he's dismissed more times that it's even surfaced (often enough it takes two dismissals for it to really go away), but keeps nagging its way back, like a blister that never gets time to heal before the next day's work. Bo knows that he's pretty; he'll announce it as often as he thinks he can get away with it. What he doesn't know is that it has nothing at all to do with that blonde fluff on his head or the angelic face underneath. His eyes may twinkle and his smile might just give an unsuspecting girl the vapors, but they're not what's beautiful about Bo.

That dust there, getting kicked up on Ridge Road, that's how Bo is beautiful. In motion, or making vehicles go, that's his cousin's best look. Dizzyingly tight turns and spins, popping the thing onto its back wheel, making the road longer than the mile markers would allocate, that's the Bo Luke keeps having to shake out of his mind.

"Don't you think Bo's taking those curves too fast, Luke?" asks his worrywart of a female cousin from the passenger side of the old work truck. It's a wonder this thing still runs, much less at the speed Luke has to take it in order to keep his eye on Bo.

"You don't win the tri-county by hugging the middle of the road, honey." Daisy obsesses about all the wrong things. Bo on a motorcycle is pretty much invulnerable. It's in the middle of a Boar's Nest brawl, or facing down Rosco's revolver that the man bears watching. "He's doing just fine." More beautiful than the sky, hills, grass and lakes put together. And Luke can't even see his hands right now, the casual grip of loose, long fingers, which will tighten down just before they hit a ramp, then relax in time to sustain the impact of the landing. Or his face, calm and concentrating, smooth and unaware of how pretty it is.

This is what he's been reduced to, memorizing the way Bo Duke drives. He's picked up a habit of slouching low in his side of the car, doing his best to project a certain bored countenance, like riding with Bo Duke is as ordinary as a summer afternoon. A little sweaty sometimes, never can tell when it'll tip over into a thunderstorm, but mostly it's just sunshine and light breezes. And the way Bo holds the steering wheel with a lover's touch, plus all the different things his eyes can watch, including Luke.

The girl is a diversion. She shows up in the back of the work truck, skinny little thing, blonde enough, raccoon eyes with too much makeup. She's plenty quiet. Scared, Daisy informs him, in need of rescue. Luke always winds up with those girls; Bo gets the ones that can take care of themselves, and live with the delusion that they can handle the likes of Bo Duke.

What the girl really needs is a plan to get away from Rosco, to get out of town all together, and Luke's her knight in shining armor. She's got her charms, mostly in the way she stands too close and looks up at him without the slightest doubt that he can do whatever he says he can. Her body up against his is compact, soft in all the right places. He hardly notices her there when she climbs onto the back of a motorcycle with him, skinny little arms around his waist. It's almost like carrying a backpack, except she's a little more form-fitting. Riding double with Bo takes a lot more work, not only keeping that big body balanced with his own, but the way his cousin's always talking to him, distracting him by shouting words he can hardly catch over the buzz of the motorcycle's engine. This Mindy Lou that fits so tightly to his back, she's no Bo.

Which is how it comes to pass that when the time comes to confront Boss in his make-shift paint shop, Luke ends up with one arm around Mindy Lou, and the other hooked over Bo's shoulder. It's not a comfortable position, nothing like the usual way that his cousin leans on him. But in the few hours they've been separated, he's missed Bo.

Damn, he's got it bad. Bo doesn't seem to get it at all, the way he fits himself to Luke's side, same as always, then nudges him and winks over the way the girl snugs herself to his other side. _Someone's getting laid tonight_, that grin says.

Mindy Lou doesn't stay that long, just through the Motocross race that Bo wins. Luke loses track of her for a while in the celebration, which starts with a crushing hug from Bo, the kind that ought to reveal how beautiful Luke thinks his win was (but Mindy Lou likely gets the blame), and ends with Luke dumping a beer over that swollen blonde head. Mindy Lou is probably also the assumed culprit when Luke spends a few extra minutes in the bathroom that night.

Gets back to the bedroom to find Bo, the cheater, sprawled out across his bed. It's not like Luke can sleep in Bo's or wrestle him out of his own, so it's wait him out or sleep on the couch. In the meantime he'll have to settle for leaning on the dresser.

"You looked good out there today, Bo." It's only the truth.

"I did," his cousin with the pitifully small ego answers. "Didn't I?" He's on his back, looking mighty comfortable lying there in just jeans, one arm behind his head while the fingers of the other one, always so precise on a steering wheel, rub restlessly against his own leg. "I'm sorry Mindy Lou left right after, though. I would have waited to give her the prize money, if I'd known."

Luke laughs. "I don't mind, Bo. She didn't mean nothing to me." Oh, he would have given in and taken her for a moonlight drive if she'd stayed, but he isn't exactly missing her right now. "You going to get out of my bed?"

"You going to make me?" The devil's grin follows that question.

"Nope." He's already made that decision, no matter how tempting it is to go back on it now.

"Then I guess you're just going to have to rough it. The floor ain't only but so hard."

"Not as hard as your head," Luke agrees. He heads over to Bo's bed; there's no way his cousin could know he has no real plans to sleep there. "Might actually be better than your mushy mattress," he adds and the springs creak under his weight. Poor thing has taken a beating all its life. It's closer to a hammock by now, the way its sways low at the center. Luke's trying to figure out the best way to distribute his weight when Bo's lands on top of him. The bed cries out in complaint, followed by Luke.

"Bo!" Hands, arms, legs, hair – everywhere, and no room to breathe. All he needs to do, he reasons, is get out from under Bo and back to his own bed. Shouldn't take but a minute. A shove here, a wiggle there, hot breath in his ear.

"What?"

"Get off!" Hands on Bo's shoulders, skin against skin is too slippery to get a grip. Meanwhile, denim on denim sticks and rubs, sticks and rubs.

Finally, he stops struggling against Bo and himself at the same time. Grabs his tormentor by the back of his head, fingers tangled in that blonde mop for a firm grip. Pulls him down and kisses him, cocks his hips up and makes contact one intentional time. Lets Bo go and reckons that if he survives the way his heart is scampering around in his chest looking for daylight, that he'll spend the rest of his days sleeping on the couch. Gets the surprise of his life when Bo doesn't haul off and hit him, just grins into the kiss and shifts to find a more comfortable way to settle himself on top of Luke.


End file.
